Children of Dust and Ashes
by ashihime
Summary: He felt the urge to fold the right side of his robe over the other, but resisted. After all, he was supposed to finally meet his betrothed, not his death. But the hollow in his chest told him there was no difference (part of the "Arranging the Universe" series).


Author note/s: This is part of my series called **_Arranging the Universe_**, stories revolving around special meetings across different alternate universes. This is the first one based on sallychan's Demon Bride AU. AS USUAL, Shinjiro is Jack's headcanoned name for reasons stated multiple times in other stories. It does not make sense why his name would be Jack here after all. There's been a couple of takes on this AU and I decided to do my own spin. I loved the first meeting between Drogo and Daenerys in the very first episode of GOT and decided to mirror that here...but that's about it LOL. The title is a bit from the song _Dust and Ashes_ from the musical _The Great Comet of 1812_.

Hope you enjoy it and any error you find will be rectified later.

ALSO note that this story is complete unless I feel the need to add a chapter.

* * *

Children of Dust and Ashes

* * *

The oil, as with the water of his morning bath, had been blessed by the high priest of the temple. It smelled of flowers and sandalwood with a faint whiff of incense, reminding him of the smoke from the incense burner he had cleansed himself with upon entering the temple. He remembered as a young boy, his parents telling him it could cure any ill as they fanned the smoke all over his body. Unfortunately, it did nothing to prevent this day.

Soaking a cloth into the shallow basin, he began applying the oil all over his naked body, and then wiping away the excess until his skin gleamed like polished lacquer. His thoughts focused solely on the motions of the ritual as he began to dress himself. He imagined a mechanical bird from his boyhood travels, how it functioned and flapped its iron wings when winded by a key. He felt like the false creature, only he would not collapse after the key stopped turning. He would have to keep performing.

He felt the urge to fold the right side of his robe over the other, but resisted. After all, he was supposed to finally meet his betrothed, not his death. But the hollow in his chest told him there was no difference.

He had been promised since childhood to the daughter of the Dark Shogun, a demonic entity that had threatened the tranquility of the land for centuries. The agreement was a final effort to forge peace, tying two bloodlines together. The Dark Shogun would be assured a place and history in the pantheon of the gods of the people, and the country would finally gain stability.

To keep the promise, the Dark Shogun needed to create an heir and he did so by plucking from his orchard of ripe fanatics. It was said that a woman bore him seven daughters near the brink of death. There were various accounts about the daughters. None flattering. Some said they had been born as monsters, black scales with glowing red eyes. Others said the daughters were one entity with seven heads, each bearing a mark of evil on their foreheads. There was no way of knowing for certain, but one thing was constant: one of them was promised to the prince of the land.

When he was finally ready, his mother, the empress, entered the chamber with her attendants. Upon seeing her son, she dissolved into tears, falling into his arms, apologizing profusely until she lost voice. The attendants did not say anything but the sadness wavered on their trembling lips.

In a simple ceremonial robe of pure white and undone hair, nothing about the prince looked like an expectant groom.

He was a sacrifice.

* * *

"I hear she eats the flesh of newborns and drinks the blood of rabid animals."

The only person smiling was a maternal cousin from a far flung region. He had made the long trip into the capital, simply for this day. While everyone else held a somber expression, he was all smiles and giggles. "Dear cousin," he whispered, "who will inherit the throne once you're gone?"

"My _own_ heir."

"Ah! But that is _if_ you live. Everyone says otherwise."

Obviously, nobody put too much faith into the arrangement or that it would last. The irksome cousin counted on that for a chance at succession.

A blare of horns spared the prince from more of the unpleasant talk, but it was replaced by the plummeting dread in the pit of his stomach. The red gates parted and a blur of black and green rushed into view. Hulking armored figures clad in complete black rode on equally black horses with manes and tails of unearthly green flames. The ground shook, as though it would split open. There were dozens of them, skidding to a stop in front of the great steps. Large clouds of dust from the hoof beats and the garish glow of horse fire formed an eerie green fog. Everyone held their breath, as the dust settled and the riders moved to either side, making way for a giant stallion with red flames that sparked up. Its rider was noticeably smaller from the rest, dressed in a similar fashion but embellished with red and yellow crystals that mimicked fire and a helmet adorned with elaborate horns.

A hand came upon the prince's shoulder. It was his father, the emperor, sharing a grave look as his chin nodded towards the menacing rider. "_That's her._"

The prince could not believe his father's words. _This_ was the monster he had been promised to? She did not have seven heads but he had no way of knowing if she had black scales underneath, unless this armored state was truly her form. His insides knotted, the more he stared at his future bride, the more he wanted to cast aside what little he ate. This was to be his future and it did not bode well.

His parents went down the great steps to greet her, giving his cousin an opportunity to strike once more. "See those black horns on her head? The Shogun supposedly has them as well. Who knows? She might very well be as every bit of her father. Do you think your children will have horns too?"

There was no time to retaliate as the emperor called him down. As he made his descent, he could feel every eye on him as his father spoke aloud.

"May I present my son, Shinjiro, Crown Prince and future successor to the chrysanthemum throne, master warrior of the great lands, and your betrothed."

When he reached the bottom step, Shinjiro did his best to level his gaze, not daring to look up as he bowed deeply from the waist. The emperor continued, this time addressing the prince, which signalled him to straighten back up.

"This is Ashi, your betrothed, firstborn daughter of the Great Shogun and honorable Master, Aku." The notorious titles were intentionally left out, cutting it short.

Shinjiro slowly lifted his eyes to the rider looming above him. He knew what was next. He stepped forward and tugged away the sash of his robe, then slipped the garment off of his shoulders until it pooled at his feet. He stood, wearing nothing but a fundoshi, exposing the hard-earned muscles to her inspection. The fire of her mount glowed against his oiled skin, Shinjiro could feel its warmth but found no comfort.

Since he was a child, he had trained rigorously to meet exacting standards, from intense studies to martial arts, molding him in all facets. Anything to avoid cause to see him unfit. The Dark Shogun was prideful and would find offense should they present his daughter with an inferior product.

Shinjiro kept his mouth in a grim line as he stared up. Her face was concealed like the rest of her, revealing only a strip for her eyes. They were not red like the stories, but were dark, shaped like almonds and lined with kohl, a shadow cast underneath from her large lashes. They looked very human as they regarded him, raking his body without a flicker of emotion, not even her feathery eyebrows gave any raised indication of interest.

Then, when she had her fill, she broke away and snapped her reins. The dust flew up once more as she turned her steed away in full gallop, exiting the grounds out of the gates with the other riders following her lead.

Jack watched them retreat in shock and fear. _Had he been rejected? What would become of them now?_

"That's it?!" The cousin piped up from the landing above. "She did not even say anything! Did she even like him?"

The emperor came beside the prince, who was now coated in a film of dirt. The empress, on the other side, bent down to retrieve the robe back onto her son.

"If she didn't like him." said the emperor, not bothering to look up behind him. "_We'd know._"


End file.
